


A through Z: A Collection of Brettelli One-Shots

by thecunningcock



Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: Alphabet Meme, Brettelli, F/M, Gen, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-07-10 18:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6999394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecunningcock/pseuds/thecunningcock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alphabet meme challenge revolving around the relationship between Sylvie Brett and Jimmy Borrelli</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A is for Ambulance

Normally, Ambulance 61 stayed at the firehouse when they weren’t out on a call. The two of them just hung out with the crew until they were needed. Most days they were busier than the firehouse - a heart attack victim here, a moron trying to clean his gas grill while it was still on there - but every so often they had slow weeks. But they were paramedics, and they had a quota of hours to fill out in the field. Sometimes that meant just driving around until they got a call.

And it got boring real quick.

And they could only spend so much time in silence, on their phones, before the random thoughts filling their heads just couldn’t be held back any more. Usually they weren’t too weird - educational sometimes, random most always, occasionally disturbing.

Jimmy was usually the one who broke first.

Spring was just starting, which might have been why people weren’t being too terribly stupid yet. The weather was just south of comfortable, and while a few of the more inept individuals of humanity had already braved the still chilly temps, most of nature’s idiots were still hibernating from the aftermath of Saint Patrick's day. Jimmy was tapping his thumbs against the steering wheel as they sat in traffic, and Sylvie was enjoying the warmth hitting her face through the window when he finally opened his mouth.

“Okay, if you had to pick between Marceline the Vampire Queen or Princess Bubblegum to have sex with, who would it be?”

Sylvie snorted, glancing up from her phone long enough to give Jimmy a look. “What?”

He gestured at her, his eyes on the road as he spoke. “Adventure Time, Brett. I’m partial to Marceline, but I like sassy vampires. They’re my thing.”

The blonde stared at him for a beat, then looked back down at her phone. “You've been spending too much time with Hermann’s kids.”

“So you’re not going to answer the question?”

“No, Jimmy,” said Sylvie slowly, like she was talking to a child. “I’m not going to answer the question.”

He looked sideways at her, his expression bland. “Is it ‘cause they’re both chicks? Your only other options are Jake and Finn -”

“You _really_ want me to pretend like I know what you’re talking about?”

“- And both options are just _wrong_.”

“Why are you still talking?”

Jimmy’s eyes narrowed of her a fraction, before he turned back to the road and started driving again. Sylvie relaxed back into her seat, still smirking at her phone. A few minutes of silence passed by, still no break from the boring with a call to get their blood flowing. It was five minutes later that Sylvie realized she hadn’t done a thing with her phone, just staring at the screen in bewilderment until she couldn’t _help_ but blurt out -

“It’s a _kids show_ Jimmy! Christ…”

“It’s actually pretty heavy for a kids show. You really haven’t seen it?”

“Like I said,” she scoffed, pinning him with a look as she rolled her head up to look at him. “You’ve been spending too much time with Hermann’s kids.”

Jimmy shrugged, not even looking embarrassed. “I love kids. And Hermann’s aren’t as bad as Mouch keeps sayin. I just think he’s scared of ‘em.” He glanced at her, serious expression on his face. “They can smell weakness, you know.” A smile cracked over his face just when she thought he was being serious. Ugh.

“I can’t take you seriously -”

Jimmy’s expression melted away before her eyes, watching him straighten in his seat to try and look through traffic. “Woah...Brett,” he nodded into the sea of cars, and even as she turned her head he flipped on the siren. The tires on the jeep were still turning in the air, proof that the accident had just happened. A few cars made it out of the way for them, and Sylvie’s mouth opened in shock.

“Oh please tell me all those limbs are still attached to someone,” Jimmy muttered to himself as he pulled the rig to a stop. Sylvie shot him a look that said she hoped the same, climbing out to start what was turning into a long day…

“I’d totally have a robot arm.”

Jimmy made a face at her, shouldering their gear as he followed her away from the nurses station. “Doctor’s can reattach limbs hours after they’ve been severed, with little residual damage, and you’d _still_ prefer a robot arm?”

He probably hated the Skywalker’s too. “Yeah. Robots are sweet.”

Jimmy made a face and shook his head, hitting the elevator button to take them down to the ambo bay. “Robots, seriously?”

“Says the guy with a thing for vampires.”

His face shifted, his grin wolfish. His eyes followed her almost predatorily as he let her into the elevator first. “Yeah, vampires,” he said, sounding creepy and so _male_ . “They have that whole _teeth_ thing -”

Sylvie made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat, looking at him out of the corner of her eyes because she didn’t feel like giving him the decency of her full attention. “Teeth? Really? You’re that guy?”

His grin never even faltered. “Endorphin's are a powerful thing.” Ew.

“You’re disgusting.”

“Who’s disgusting?”

Jimmy tilted his head back against his chair to look at Hermann as he walked into the lounge. Sylvie was making a cup of tea, he was angled back on two legs of his chair, and Hermann was looking between the two of them curiously. Jimmy sighed, looking back at his blonde partner with a casual hand gesture. They hadn’t had another call that night, so the two were just hanging out until the end of their shift.

“Brett and her bubblegum vodka.”

She just rolled her eyes and sipped her tea, trying not to snort at Hermann’s face as he looked at Jimmy. “She serious? That’s disgusting.”

Jimmy shrugged. “That’s what I’m saying. They went too far with that one.”

“You didn’t seem to mind it too much the other night,” Sylvie muttered against the rim of her mug, earning a bemused look from Jimmy and a sharp from from Hermann.

“You had Jimmy over at your place drinking?” Jimmy rolled his eyes a little and smirked.

“Yeah had a sleepover,” Sylvie shot him a look, and Jimmy chuckled. “Dawson and Kidd were there too, I just brought the pizza.”

“He crashed a girls night ‘cause he’s got no friends,” said Sylvie with a mock pout in his direction, but Jimmy just grinned at her. She glanced at Hermann, taking a casual sip of her tea. “He crashed on the couch.”

“Bubblegum vodka is still vodka,” Jimmy muttered to himself, shaking his head as he stood and moved into the kitchen. Hermann’s eyes narrowed on the two of them, trying to understand how the two of them were so comfortable together.

“You two spend too much time together.” they both looked up at him, and Hermann’s expression turned all-knowing. “Partner’s or not, you don’t have to spend every minute of every day together.”

Jimmy shrugged, glancing at Sylvie as he brought down a bowl for his cereal. “It’s not like we run out of things to talk about.”

Hermann just continued to look at them. “Just don’t take advantage of your relationship; just because you got a good thing goin’ now don’t mean you’ll always have it.”

Sylvie walked into the locker room just in time to catch Jimmy pulling his shirt over his head. She watched, her steps slowing, as he tossed it into the gym bag at his feet and pulled on a clean shirt, long fingers playing with the buttons. Her steps must have registered to him because he looked up at her as she neared, nodding at her in greeting. “Hey. Wanna grab a drink?”

She nodded, bobbing her head as his skin disappeared with each button. “Sounds good. Your place or Molly’s?”

He smirked at her, and she ignored the thrill that shot through her. “Let’s do Molly’s. Need to stop by the ambo real quick before we leave though. Pretty sure I left my phone in there after that last call.”

Sylvie rolled her eyes, grabbing her purse from her locker as he passed her, following behind quickly to catch up. “And you didn’t notice? I swear you’re the only person I know who’s not permanently attached to their phone.”

“Well like you told Hermann, you’re my only friend.”

“Ha ha.”

He hooked his hand around her elbow, pulling her to a stop. His expression was serious, mouth firm and eyebrows lifted precariously in that way that let her know he was gonna try and have a real conversation with her. “Could always tell people about us,” he said lowly, the pressure of his fingers digging gently into her arm, his thumb rubbing the skin under her sleeve. Her stomach flipped, and he kept going. “Come clean. Wouldn’t have to throw a damn party just to get me into your place.”

He was only half kidding, which is why Sylvie didn’t feel like she needed to be all in. “You know we can’t.”

“It’s not like we’re unprofessional,” he told her, taking his hand off her and stepping away with an annoyed lift of his shoulder. “Not like we make out in the rig or anything.”

She snorted. “Like you wouldn’t want to if we got the chance.” He shrugged again, but this time he seemed less angry.

“Eh, who wouldn’t?”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“It was unbelievable! I’d never seen so much porn in one place in my life.”

Gabby slid into the seat next to Jimmy, looking across his body at Sylvie sitting next to him and then to Cruz who was looking like he was going to blow a blood vessel if he didn’t stop laughing long enough to breathe. “Why are we talkin’ about porn?”

“Call we took today,” Jimmy explained, raising his beer to his mouth, his eyes twinkling in amusement. Gabby quirked an eyebrow as she waited for him to explain, first he gestured to Sylvie. “Some guy in a sex shop had a seizure while he was lookin’ at porn; Sylvie’s delicate sensibilities were offended.”

“ _Delicate sensi_ -”

“You guys had a call to a porn shop?” Kinda sounded like she was jealous, but it was hard to tell. Her eyes darted onto Sylvie. “You washed your hands after, right?”

Jimmy swung his eyes to look at her, and Gabby notice his hand was resting on the back of her chair. She quirked an eyebrow at it, then looked at Sylvie. The blonde caught the look and shifted in her chair a little, dislodging Jimmy’s hand for a moment before it was back. Gabby flicked her eyes to look at him, eyebrow raised.

“It wasn’t as bad as she makes it sound,” he told her, stubbornness making his gaze hard.

“Well you gotta be careful in places like that,” Gabby started saying. “Never know who you might run into, like your boss or something.” Cruz wasn’t paying attention enough to get the double meaning behind their words. Jimmy held her gaze for a moment, then sighed and let his hand fall away from Sylvie’s chair. Gabby pressed her lips together and raised her glass to silently toast him. “Just be careful.”

“Hey so, crazy question,” Jimmy started, his voice sounding off in her ears. They were headed back to the Firehouse after dropping off a gunshot victim to the hospital, Jimmy was driving, and Sylvie was getting a head start on her report. She glanced up as he started talking, warning bells going off at the tone of his voice, but ignoring them.

“Yeah?”

He didn’t say, it was almost a whole minute later that he finally did say and by then she’d gone back to her report. “Does Dawson know about us?”

Her fingers still on the keyboard, her mind whizzing as she tried to think of something - anything - to say to him. He wasn’t an angry guy, he was all cup half full and sometimes it was annoying; but it also meant that when he was pissed he was _pissed_. When he got angry he was all in, and she needed her game face if she was going to get through this.

“She’s my roommate.”

Sylvie looked out the corner of her eye at him, watching his expression. She saw his eyebrow lift, his head turning toward her just long enough for her to see the annoyance on his face.

“So that’s a yes?”

“Damn, Jimmy, just say whatever it is you wanna say.”

He exhaled through his nose hard, his hand tightening on the steering wheel for a moment, and once again they lapsed into silence. It wasn’t until they were a block away from the Firehouse that he spoke again. “Chili didn’t care about my feelings when we were together,” he told her, and Sylvie’s head snapped toward him, her eyes a little wide because he _never_ talked about Chili. “I was some kind of toy to her. She didn’t want to have conversations with me, she didn’t care how our relationship affected our jobs, she just wanted sex.” Sylvie shifted uncomfortably, glancing out the window as the firehouse loomed closer. “And that was okay, because it was a secret, and it didn’t mean anything. _We_ didn’t mean anything.”

Jimmy looked over at her as he pulled the rig into the garage, putting it in park and never taking his eyes off her. “You and me, though? We mean something. We talk, and you care, and it means something. So if Dawson knows, she should know everything.”

Sylvie nodded, feeling small and...stupid. Her head thunked back against the seat after he’d climbed out of the rig, knowing he had a point. It wasn’t like she’d just come out and told Gabby about him; she was her roommate, she _saw_ him. And yeah, they had excuses lined up, but she couldn’t really explain away his underwear mixed in with her laundry, or that time Gabby wasn’t supposed to be home and had caught Jimmy coming out of the shower. That last time Jimmy had given her a really good excuse but Gabby already had her suspicions.

A knock on the window made her startle, and Sylvie looked down to see Jimmy frowning curiously at her. He jerked his head in silent demand for her to get out of the car, and with a sigh she unbuckled her seatbelt and climbed out. “You good?” The blonde looked up at him as her boots hit the ground, shaking her head in wonder.

“You’re too good for me, you know that?”

He snorted softly, his hand sliding over her shoulder as he pulled her into him, kissing her forehead. He’d done it before, especially after bad calls, so all the guys in Severide’s crew watching them didn’t bat an eye. Sylvie smiled gently up at him when he pulled away, sucking in a deep breath. “Proving my point.”

“Whatever, Brett,” he chuckled. “Just let me know if Dawson and I need to come to any agreements when I come over.”

Sylvie’s mouth dropped open, and she shoved him away hard enough that he had to take a step back, laughing at her the whole time. “Jimmy Borrelli,” she tsk’d at him, turning around to head into the firehouse without him. “You’re an ass.”

He stayed where he was, grinning after her. “You love me!”

Severide perked up as she headed closer, grinning at her. “You and Jimmy good?” She waved him off.

“Trapped all day in a metal box on wheels, we get a little stir crazy sometimes.”

“Aw, so you do love him.”

Sylvie stopped, just in front of Severide, looking at the teasing grin on his face. She glanced over her shoulder to see Jimmy getting the rig ready for their next call, not paying her any attention. Her gaze traced his profile as he worked, looking almost serene as he repacked one of their kits. “Yup,” she said casually, still looking at Jimmy, unable to look away. “I really do love him.”


	2. B is for Baby

“I'm just saying.”

He was exhausted; and he still smelled like vomit, even after two showers - and he'd practically scrubbed a layer of skin away, but it didn't matter, it was in his pores. Though she wasn't any better off, it was a small constellation. He hated junkies. And Sylvie was starting to learn just how much.

“Yeah, you've mentioned.”

She was laughing at him a little, he could tell; but he was just so tired of being dumped on by homeless people. Literally. “I do this for you, you know.”

“Oh and I _so_ appreciate it,” she snickered back, shoving him away from her as he just grinned at her. “Wanna get a drink? It won't help the smell, but it might help with your mood,” she waited a beat, before adding. “And I’ll like you more.”

Jimmy shoved her back, shaking his head. “You’re a bad friend.”

“I’m an amazing friend. _You’re_ the idiot who stepped in front of me to get vomit all over yourself, courtesy our heat stroke victim.”

His eyes narrowed at her, mouth opening to tease her right back, when a noise caught his attention. Swinging his head around, his eyes landed on the dumpster outside the Firehouse. Sylvie was still walking, but when he hadn’t retaliated she stopped and turned around, calling his name. “Jimmy?”

He was about to turn away, writing off the sound, when he heard it again; it was muffled, but instinct made him start for the dumpster. “Do you hear that?” he asked her, glancing over his shoulder at Sylvie. The blonde was bouncing on the balls of her feet, hands pulling her hair away from her neck as sweat started to collect there. There had been a heat advisory warning since 9 in the morning; it was almost noon and with the humidity it felt like the temp was pushing in the high 90s. And she was too hot for Jimmy’s shit.

“I don’t hear anything,” she told him. But Jimmy wasn’t listening, and instead of stopping, lifted the lid of the dumpster, shaking his hand to get rid of the sting of hot metal. Before Sylvie could open her mouth to ask him what he was doing, he was climbing in. “What the _hell_ are you doing?”

“There’s something in here,” he called back to her, tossing things out of his way as he dug through the trash. Sylvie made a face at him, walking over just to get a breeze on her skin.

“You wanna smell worse than you already do?” she asked him, propping her hands on her hips, not putting too much effort into what he was doing. “It’s probably just a cat trying to get away from the heat, c’mon Jimmy, let’s go.”

Jimmy’s next words, however, made her skin go cold, his dark eyes boring into hers when he lifted his head to find her standing too far away to hear what he did. “Sylvie, I think there’s a baby in here.”

Her heart leapt into her throat, lungs constricting at his words. “What?” Jimmy was already back to looking through the trash, and she couldn't even feel how hot it was it was. “But there’s a safe haven at the Firehouse, who would leave their baby in the dumpster?”

Jimmy reappeared a few seconds later, not wearing his shirt, and for a moment Sylvie had nothing to say, her tongue cleaved to the roof of her mouth as she just stared at the way the muscles in his arms moved. Before she noticed that he still had his shirt, it was just bundled around something in his arms. Her stomach tightened as the baby’s sluggish cries finally reached her ears, her arms coming up automatically as Jimmy turned toward her.

"Chance of hyperthermia, he’s burning up,” Jimmy was saying, passing the baby down to her so he could hop out of the dumpster with as little skin-to-metal contact that he could manage. Sylvie shook her head, checking the baby's pulse. “Strong rapid pulse, no sweat on the skin,” Sylvie nodded along as Jimmy fired off a list of the little boy’s symptoms, not even blinking as he reached for the baby to take him out of her arms.

“We need to get him to Chicago Med, I think everyone’s still inside,” Sylvie told him, already walking back toward the firehouse. He was close behind her, eyes on the baby in his arms, so he didn’t notice when Otis walked out and spotted them.

“Dude, put on a shirt. You’re embarrassing the rest of us.”

Jimmy barely acknowledge him, except for a quick and to the point - “Jealous?” before breezing past him. Otis turned as they didn’t stop to chat, making a face at Sylvie’s back. “Is that a baby?”

Sylvie turned to nod at him, walking backwards as she shouted the situation at him. “Jimmy found him in the dumpster. Hey, call Chicago Med, let them know we have a possible hyperthermic baby en route.”

In the cool shade of the garage, Jimmy stopped at the table near the door and set the baby down. He glanced at her as she walked up, checking his vitals more thoroughly.  “No gasping or petechiae,” he told her. “Grab a ventilation mask, but I don’t think we need to do CPR. Get me some saline and ice packs, too.”

“Rectal thermometer?” Jimmy nodded. “You’re going to try evaporative cooling?”

“Hoping it’ll be fast enough,” he said, unwrapping his shirt from the baby and checking his skin for any burns. She was gone before he finished speaking, and Jimmy was too busy checking the baby to notice that there was a crowd of people gathering behind him. He only looked up again when Sylvie dropped the supplies on the table, immediately handing him a pack of saline to start the cooling process.

“Hey guys, we got this,” the blonde paramedic was saying, staring passed Jimmy at their coworkers crowded behind them. Jimmy looked around sharply, but only for a second before his attention was back on the baby boy. Sylvie handed him his shirt with a pointed look, taking over care so he could take a moment. He pursed his lips but let her silently order him back, recognizing that she was the PIC and she had authority. But that didn’t mean he had to stop working.

Pulling his t-shirt over his head, Jimmy turned and nodded to Gabby. “Hey, Dawson, call your brother for me? I don’t know about you guys but I’d like to find the person who thought throwing a baby in the dumpster was a good idea.”

She nodded, completely on board, her voice hard as she stepped away to get the police on the phone. “No problem.”

“Hey, Jimmy.” He turned back to Sylvie as she called for him, watching her pull her stethoscope from her ears and nod to the baby. “His temps coming down. Take over?”

He was already nodding, lifting up the little boy and cradling him to his chest. His skin was still hot, but he was getting fluids back into his system, and his core temperature was starting to drop. Jimmy glanced at his partner. “Wanna drive?”

She smirked at him, hitting his arm lightly. “Thought you’d never ask.”

He didn’t bother getting into the back of the rig, but sat up from with Sylvie, and she’d be lying if she didn’t admit she was distracted by the way he took care of that baby. It was starting to look like there wasn’t too much damage done, if any, and as the baby started to move and make noise, Jimmy relaxed.

“He’s pretty cute,” Sylvie teased lightly, something uncoiling in her chest as the hospital loomed closer. Jimmy didn’t even look at her, just kept catching itty bitty fingers with one of his.

“Yeah he is,” he agreed, but there was an oddness to his voice that made her look over at him. “Who the hell throws a baby away?” Jimmy asked quietly. “In the middle of the summer, with a fire station ten feet away?”

He heard her shift uncomfortably in her seat, but he didn’t look up. Really there wasn’t anything she could say that would justify the actions of whoever did this. You didn’t throw a baby in the _trash_ ; Jimmy didn’t care who you were, or how desperate, you just didn’t do it.

He glanced up as the ambulance slowed, his eyes picking out Dr. Manning in the cluster of doctors by the ambo bay. “We get him checked out and take him back to the firehouse,” said Jimmy, making the statement sound like a mantra.

“Social Services will want to take him, Jimmy,” said Sylvie quietly, putting the ambo into park. He looked over at her, an easy grin slipping onto his face.

“I know,” he said, and he did, he knew and he’d follow the law. “But it could be hours waiting for them, and we need to keep him in our custody, right?” She wanted to argue with him, he could tell, and he knew there were a dozen points she could make over why he wouldn’t be able to keep the baby. But for some reason she didn’t burst his bubble, Sylvie just closed her mouth and with a tight-lipped smile, climbed out of the ambulance.

So he let it go. Shifting the baby in his arms, Jimmy followed Sylvie out of the rig, and was immediately accosted by Dr. Manning. Nat’s hands probed and checked the little boy, but when she moved to take him out of Jimmy’s arms, he pulled back. “I’d uh...I’d rather stay with him, if that’s okay.”

And he could see the same look in her eyes that he’d seen in Sylvie’s, how this was a bad idea, how he was going to get attached. But Nat just shrugged. “Fine with me, he seems comfortable enough with you. This little guy needs as much stability as he can get.” She gestured for him to follow her. She asked questions about the baby’s temperature and behavior, where he was found, and halfway through her exam in the NICU they were met by Sylvie, who immediately crossed to stand by Jimmy.

“Antonio’s at a scene, he won’t be able to come by until we’re back at the firehouse,” she was saying, making faces at the baby on the exam table. He grinned toothily at her, his feet kicking into the air. “Wow, he looks so much better,” she breathed, grabbing onto a little foot to tickle, causing the little boy to shriek happily.

“You guys were lucky you found him when you did,” Natalie commented, making a couple notes in her chart. “We could use more paramedics like you.” Jimmy noticed her glance at him, and smiled a little in thanks. He was just grateful the kid wasn’t worse off. “I’ll check to see if CFS is here, you’ll need to release him into their custody.”

Jimmy heard Sylvie inhale a little too sharply, but if Natalie noticed she didn’t say anything, as for him, he was holding onto the exam table a little too hard. “No problem,” he said, meaning it. It sucked that the poor kid would be put in the system. If he’d just been dropped off at the safehaven they could take him back to the firehouse and wait for CFS to find something, no problem. But this was an abandonment case, and technically the firehouse had nothing to do with it.

Twelve minutes later though, after one of the nurses had found a dinosaur printed onesie to put the baby in, Natalie and a woman Jimmy assumed was the Social Service worker came back into the exam room. Jimmy was holding the baby, one little hand against his shoulder to hold himself up as he looked around.

“He’s about 8 months,” Natalie was saying as she lead the woman inside. She spared Jimmy a soft smile, gesturing toward him, then to Sylvie. “These are the paramedics who brought him in. Jimmy Borrelli, Sylvie Brett from Firehouse 51. This is Takenya Mayberry from Chicago Family Services.”

“I’ve worked with 51 before,” the Social Worker mentioned. “Chief Boden runs a close house.”

“We're like family,” said Sylvie. “Do we need to sign something for you to take him or -?”

“Actually,” she interrupted, holding up a hand to stop the blonde. “We have a situation.”

“You can’t take him,” Jimmy answered for her quietly. Takenya nodded, her lips pursed.

“We just don’t have anyone to take him at such short notice. The best we could do is get him into a shelter for the night, or until we can place him.”

Sylvie’s head was lowered, her eyes closed, with her fist pressed against her lips when Jimmy looked over at her. She looked regretful, and pained to hand the child they’d rescued off to the worse circumstance. He made a snap decision, his chest tightening when he looked back at the Social Worker.

“I’ll take him.”

All eyes swung onto him, and Jimmy unconsciously drew the baby closer to him, feeling a tiny hand pat against his cheek as his attention was jarred. He glanced over at the baby, unable to help the smile that spread over his face when the little boy smiled at him first. “Are you sure you want to do that?” Takenya asked seriously. He opened his mouth to answer, but fingers caught his lip and pulled, so Sylvie jumped in.

“Definitely. We’ll take him until you can find him a home.”

Takenya looked at Natalie, and took a deep breath. “Well, that settles it.” Jimmy’s eyes brightened, catching Sylvie’s when she glanced at him excitedly. “We’ll keep in touch, but I trust Boden’s people to take care of this baby.”

Nearly an hour later, laden down with baby supplies from the Maternity ward director, they were back in the ambulance on their way to the firehouse. Jimmy was driving this time, finally relinquishing the baby to Sylvie who took the opportunity very seriously - by making faces at the tiny human. Suddenly something occurred to her.

“Should we name him something?” she asked, rolling her head up to look at him. Jimmy ‘hm’d thoughtfully, glancing at her arms.

“How ‘bout Rex?” he teased, referencing to the dinosaur pjs he was wearing. Sylvie rolled her eyes. “Or Littlefoot, that’s another good one.”

“I hate you, be serious,” she scoffed, rubbing her hand over the baby’s stomach as he fussed. “What are we gonna name you.”

“Hopefully he already has a name,” Jimmy pointed out. “Start listing them until he responds to one.”

Sylvie nodded. “Okay, good plan,” then she hesitated. “What are names, I can’t remember any.” He laughed at her, which made the baby laugh, and Sylvie turned her head to pout at him. “I’m on the spot, okay? You think of some, its hard.”

“Adam, Nick, Logan, Johnny -”

“Hogarth, maybe? Or Clarence?”

He laughed, and the next ten minutes spent headed back to the firehouse consisted of trying to one up each other with ridiculous names. When Sylvie started pitching Lord of the Rings characters, Jimmy had to put his foot down.

“There’s no way we can name him Aragorn, do you know how hard it would be to live up to a name like that?” Jimmy shook his head. “Any Tolkien character should be off the table.” He tilted his head to the side with a thoughtful shrug. “But I still think Stormageddon would be a cool name for a baby.”

Sylvie snorted. “Oh, Magneto is off the table but Stormageddon gets another pass? Please.”

The bay was empty when they finally pulled in, which turned out to be great timing as the for now unnamed baby started fussing in Sylvie’s arms. She passed him off to Jimmy without a word as he met her around the ambo, trading her the diaper bag of supplies for the tiny human. The eight month old babbled incoherently at him, twisting around in Jimmy’s arms to see everything around him.

“Aw, he’s like a curious little monkey,” Sylvie cooed, earning his attention when she ran her hand down his back. Jimmy’s eyes brightened and swung onto her.

“Curious George.”

Sylvie tilted her head at him, then looked at the baby and it tilted even further, a cutesy smile spreading over her face. “George huh? I like that, what do you think, huh sweetie?”

‘George’ smiled at her, then dropped against Jimmy’s shoulder, hiding his face from her. Jimmy smirked down at him, shaking his head. “Little flirt,” he muttered. “He’s definitely feeling better, he’s got a hell of a personality.”

Sylvie whacked him in the side. “Hey, language. We’ve got a baby in the house, everyone’s going to be on their best behavior.”

Jimmy sent her an odd look, following her into the house and into blessid A/C. “Please tell me you’re not going to set up a swear jar or something; this is a firehouse, people curse.”

She just sniffed, turning her nose up. “Well not until George is out of our custody.”

He was about to fire off something back, when he spotted Boden coming down the hall toward them. He slowed at the same time Sylvie did, and when Jimmy looked over at her to see how she was handling their impending ass chewing, he saw her looking wary with her bottom lip between her teeth. “You worried?”

She flinched slightly. “A little. I don’t have the best track record when it comes to letting go of patients.”

George clutched at the collar of Jimmy’s shirt, tugging and wiggling closer to get into a more comfortable position, and the movement of the baby seemed to lessen the fire in Boden’s eyes. He stopped a few feet away from them, his hands on his hips, looking between the two seriously.

“I just got off the phone with CFS,” he started off warningly. “They wanted to express their gratitude in 51 volunteering their services. And just to be clear,” he continued, interrupting both of them as they opened their mouths to explain. “I am not mad. That child _should_ be in our custody. But this is not something the two of you need to do alone. **All** of Firehouse 51 will be volunteering their services, understood?”

Jimmy could hear the warning to not get attached behind his words, and he nodded along with Sylvie obediently. “Any word from Antonio about who left him in the dumpster?” asked Jimmy, desperate to change the subject. Neither he nor Sylvie were on shift, but he doubted Boden would let either of them take George home with them; and there was no way Jimmy was leaving him with second shift.

“Not yet,” he said after a moment of staring at Jimmy, relaxing a little. “Gabby said he would be by later to go over a few more details with you, but she wanted you to know an investigation has been opened.”

“Good.”

Boden shook his head, staring at George, and moved closer to Jimmy to get a good look at the little boy’s face, his hand reaching out to rub against one tiny clenched fist. “What are you calling him?” he asked, not sugarcoating anything, and Sylvie winced.

“George,” she answered guiltily. “We just wanted something to call him, and what if no one ever claims him?”

“There’s a _reason_ we don’t name the children left at the Safe Haven,” said Boden gruffly, straightening up with a stern look. “It prevents us from getting attached, and you _cannot_ get attached.” There was a moment of silence, with Boden just staring at them silently, measuring them up, until he turned his head and waved them away. “But this is not one of those cases,” he conceded softly. “A person needs a name, and I trust you both to be professionals.”

He dismissed them without another word, and even though Jimmy could feel his eyes on them as they headed away, he didn’t dare look back.

“I’m going to set up a schedule to rotate babysitting duty,” said Sylvie quickly. Jimmy gestured to the night house. “I’ll see if I can get him to sleep.”

And that’s where Antonio found him half an hour later sitting on a bed reading while George slept in one of the cribs they kept around for Safe Havened children, the firehouse having emptied earlier in the day by a massive building fire leaving just him and Sylvie around. His blonde partner had gone out to stock up the kitchen on food, leaving him alone in the empty station. Jimmy looked up as Antonio called his name, setting aside his book and standing up.

“Hey, you find anything out yet?” the Detective shook his head, coming to a stop at the crib and looking down at the sleeping baby.

“I was hoping you could answer a few things for me,” Antonio said instead, backing away so he wouldn’t disturb him and gesturing Jimmy to follow. “Gabby said you found him in one of the dumpsters?”

“Yeah, right outside the apparatus bays,” he said gesturing in the general direction. Antonio nodded.

“Time?”

“Closer to noon, we had a call that got out of hand so none of us left until after eleven.”

Jimmy watched him purse his lips as he nodded again, jotting down a few things that he’d said. “Alright, I think that’s all I need. He’s sticking around the firehouse for now?”

“CFD doesn’t have room for him, volunteered our services.”

“You and my sister have the same way of thinking,” Antonio muttered, one last scribble of his pen before he pocketed his notebook and looked up at Jimmy with a sigh. “I’m just waiting on camera surveillance, see if I can find whoever left him.”

“What do you think will happen?” asked Jimmy, arms folding over his chest. He was relieved that Antonio was working on this, that something was getting done, but the fear that George’s mother could get him back after what happened was still there. “To whoever abandoned him, I mean.”

“Truthfully? Child abandonment is only a Class 4 felony, maximum jail time is 3 years.” That didn’t seem like enough time to Jimmy, his eyes sliding away as he nodded. Antonio shook his head a little, trying to catch his eye. “The kid will either be put into foster care or into the custody of next of kin, but that’s the best we can hope for..”

“That sucks,” he said honestly. Antonio lifted his arms in a what-can-I-do gesture, already turning away.

“Is what it is, Borrelli. Sorry.”

* * *

Boden had called everyone back that evening to go over the situation with George; Dawson had been enthusiastic about taking care of the baby boy, while people like Kidd and Otis shared some halfhearted looks. Sylvie stood beside him, going over the schedule so everyone could take a shift.

“Why are you and Jimmy taking care of this kid?” asked Severide, raising a hand from his spot crammed into the corner of the couch. “Where’s CFD?”

“It’s either us or a shelter,” said Sylvie, her tone putting an end to the discussion. Jimmy was leaning against the kitchen island, his arms folded across his chest and his attention on Hermann who was holding the baby.

“Cute little guy,” said Mouch, reaching across the table to nudge his cheek lightly with his fist, making the baby squeal. ”Who’d abandon a baby.”

“I just thank God for Jimmy,” said Dawson seriously, looking over at the dark haired paramedic like he was her personal hero. “I can’t even stand thinking about what would have happened if he hadn’t pulled him from the dumpster.”

“Makes me sick,” said Hermann darkly, pressing a kiss to the top of George’s head, making the little boy look up at him and immediately stick his fingers up his nose. ”That’s right,” he cooed down at the baby. “Antonio’s gonna find your mom and she’s gonna go to jail for this.”

“We don’t know it was his mom,” said Sylvie defensively, crossing the room to pull George out of Hermann’s hands, and he let go reluctantly, pursing his lips at her.

“Don’t be naive, Brett, odds are the mom did this.” Sylvie tried to ignore him, moving away from Hermann and all his negative energy and over to Jimmy, who’s face immediately brightened. George reached for him immediately, but Jimmy didn’t try to take him from Sylvie, and seemed content to just let him babble softly and run his tiny fingers along his watch..

“I’m not being naive,” said Sylvie finally. “I just don’t want to jump to conclusions that’s all. He could have just as easily been left by his father, or any other relative who couldn’t look after him.”

“Whoever did won't get away with it,” Jimmy vowed, looking up at her with the most serious expression she’d ever seen on his face before.

“The baby doesn’t leave the firehouse,” Boden interrupted, his voice booming and ending all conversations. “Jimmy and Sylvie have volunteered to stay until Second Watch is over. Hermann and Dawson are taking the next shift.”

“I told Cindy about what’s goin’ on, she’s gonna come by for a little while to help out,” said Hermann, nodding to Jimmy and Sylvie. And after that everyone started leaving. Hermann and Mouch looked at each other while Sylvie and Jimmy were occupied, both standing at the same time and heading over to them.

“Well don’t you three make the cutest little family,” Mouch said conversationally. Jimmy glanced at him, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It’s like a Lifetime special.”

“Little guy’s lucky to have you,” asid Hermann, sounding proud, wiggling his finger at him until George caught it and started chewing sloppily. “Cindy’ll be here early with me to take care of him.”

“We’re calling him George,” said Sylvie, unashamed, leaning in and pressing her lips to the baby’s forehead tenderly.

“Don’t get too attached,” Hermann warned her, fitting Jimmy with an equally stern look. “Giving him up will be hell if you do.”

“We’ll do our jobs,” said Jimmy defensively, feeling Sylvie’s hand press against his back. He looked over at her, but she wasn’t looking back, all of her attention on baby George as he continued to teeth on Hermann’s finger. Mouch raised his hands up, backing off silently.

“Never said you couldn’t,” he explained. “Just warning you, like everyone else already has.”

And that was an understatement. Jimmy felt like he couldn’t hold George without someone looking at him sternly and telling him off for bonding with the child. But he didn’t say anything; not until George jerked away from Hermann and reached for Jimmy once again, nearly pulling himself out of Sylvie’s arms as distressed tears filled his eyes.

Jimmy took him immediately, wrapping his arms around him securely as Sylvie silently went to pull a bottle of baby food from the fridge. Mouch shook his head, turning to head out. “You two are a well oiled machine,” he muttered, and Hermann followed shortly after, but not before giving Jimmy one last warning look.

“I’ll see you two in a few hours.”

Sylvie waved goodbye to him, and the movement caught George’s eye; he imitated her, tears still in his eyes, and his bottom lip still trembling. Sylvie ‘awe’d sympathetically, kissing his little nose gently. “You’re just having the worst day, aren’t you Georgie,” she cooed, busying herself with getting him some food.

Jimmy stayed silent, just staring at her as she fed the baby in his arms. He’d taken care of his nephews when they were babies, kids of his cousins in high school; he _loved_ kids, and it broke his heart that someone would throw one away like trash. “I’ve always wanted kids,” he admitted to Sylvie softly, feeling her look up at him, wide blue eyes staring into him.

“Yeah?”

He nodded. “Probably since I first held my nephew. I don’t know, something clicked I guess.”

Sylvie fell silent, processing his words while she fed George. When he’d had his fill she took him back from Jimmy and he snuggled into her shoulder, one hand fisting against her breast. “You don’t have any?” He shook his head. “You ever gotten serious enough with someone to consider it?”

Again, he shook his head. “No. What about you? You ever want kids?”

Sylvie nodded, a small smile ghosting around her mouth. “Someday, if I find someone.” Her smile drooped a little as she reconsidered his question. “I did get close, once,” Sylvie sighed. “I was engaged in Indiana, Harrison; had a pregnancy scare with him a couple months before the wedding was supposed to be. I think that might have been what scared him off.”

Jimmy reached out to run his hand down George’s back, and the sleepy boy snuggled further into Sylvie’s shoulder. “We got a couple hours until Hermann and Cindy get here,” he said casually, his eyes boring into hers when he looked up at her.. “Tell me about Harrison.”

Their conversation about Harrison took three hours, and splintered into learning about _his_ ex’s; they ended up sitting on the couch facing each other, George sleeping on his back between them, when Cindy and Hermann showed up to give them a break.

“Chris told me about this poor little guy,” Cindy said gently, leaning down to get a good look at the baby making cute wuffing sounds in his sleep. She shook her head, pinning Jimmy with a look similar to the one Dawson had earlier. “You, Jimmy, are my hero.”

“She’s been goin’ on nonstop about you,” Hermann halfheartedly complained. “Jimmy this, Jimmy that, Jimmy needs to babysit again.”

“I would love to watch your kids for you if you ever need a break,” said Jimmy, sounding honored, while Sylvie’s hand shot up in the air.

“Oh, can I help? We’ll make living room forts and watch old school Nickelodeon cartoons.”

“Jack your kids up full of sugar and pizza,” Jimmy agreed, grinning wickedly at Hermann. “Homemade stuff too, they can add their own ingredients.”

“You two are going to be such good parents,” said Cindy with a small laugh, shaking her head at them. Sylvie flushed appreciatively, while Jimmy looked away with a small embarrassed smile on his face. The older woman then swatted lightly at them both. “Now get out of here, you’ve been here all day.”

“You sure you don’t need us to stay?” asked Jimmy, reluctantly getting off the couch, his eyes on George the whole time. “I can-”

“ _Go_ ,” Hermann stressed. “You’ve both got a round on me at Molly’s, take a break. We’ll look after George just fine.”

“But-”

“Jimmy, _go_ ,” said Hermann again, steel beneath his voice. “If anything happens you’ll be the first to know.”

Sylvie reached for his hand and pulled him away. “He’ll be fine,” she convinced him softly. “Cindy and Chris have five kids, they know what they’re doing.”

He nodded, not looking convinced. “What if he wakes up and we’re not here -”

“C’mon, Jimmy,” she insisted. “He’s in good hands.”

She managed to convince him to leave the firehouse, both stepping out into the much cooler evening; they chatted casually, but it wasn’t like that morning, and Sylvie could tell Jimmy’s mind was on George back at the firehouse and not her sitting next to him at the bar. She sipped her wine and stared at the side of his face, watching a vein above his eyebrow twitch until he finally swung his head around to look at her.

“Okay, what?”

“Nothing,” she shrugged, accompanied by another sip of wine. “Just wondering how many beers it would take for you to loosen up.”

He looked away and raised his beer to his lips, shooting a perplexed second glance her way before taking a drink. “What makes you think this isn’t me relaxed?”

Sylvie shook her head, leaning closer across the bar until she was in his personal space. “This is not the guy I was talking to this morning,” Sylvie told him. “This is Paramedic Jimmy, all business, waiting to read the scene and come up with a diagnosis.”

“That’s not true -”

“Jimmy you have looked at your phone every thirty seconds since we sat down,” she interrupted, and to make her point, she picked up his phone from the bar top and clutched it to her chest, leaning back as he made a grab for it. “I am keeping this for the rest of the night,” she told him sternly. “You are off the clock, so _relax_.”

Jimmy stared at her, with a narrow gaze,before he looked away and waved to Gabby at the other end of the bar. “Fine, you win,” he told her. “Another round?”

Sylvie straightened, feeling victorious. “Shots,” she declared, propping her elbow on the bar and her chin on her hand, batting her eyelashes at Gabby as the latina stopped in front of them. “Shots with embarrassing names that Jimmy won't say out loud but will secretly think are delicious,” she clarified, and Gabby tossed her a wink.

“I gotchu, girl.”

“You are the actual worst,” Jimmy chuckled, grabbing a couple pretzels from the bowl between them to snack on. And for a few seconds he tried not to think about George; he took his shot (“Good boy,” Sylvie said patronizingly, which earned her an ice cube down the back of her shirt in retaliation.), he got another beer, and he was _almost_ relaxed, when Sylvie jumped a little and pulled out his phone..

Jimmy’s eyes sharpened on her as she frowned down at the screen. “What?” Jimmy’s heart started thudding in his chest. “Sylvie, what?”

She looked up at him uncertainly, and he could see that she was warring with herself over giving him his phone. “It’s Hermann,” she said finally, holding it out for him.

_taking Georgie to Chiago med er. you should meet us there. - Chris_

Jimmy took his cell to read and reread the text from Hermann, pulling his wallet out of his jeans to toss a few bills onto the bartop to pay for their drinks before he looked up at her. “Well let’s go.”

“Jimmy -”

“Sylvie, let’s go,” his voice was insistent, but he didn’t think he’d been too harsh; still she grimaced and, after sharing a look with Gabby, nodded to start following him out of the bar.

“What the hell happened,” Jimmy hissed to himself, knuckles white against the steering wheel of the car he wouldn’t let her drive for him. He didn’t expect Sylvie to answer, he _knew_ she didn’t know anymore than he did; but when he felt her hand take one of his off the steering wheel and hold onto it tightly he didn’t feel like he was the only one invested in this child anymore.

“It’s going to be okay,” said Sylvie quietly. Jimmy squeezed the hand she was holding his with, but he couldn’t answer. Jimmy’s thoughts had descended into dark and twisty, and he would be hard pressed to change his mood until he knew George was fine and healthy.

Hermann was waiting for them when Jimmy pulled up, phone in hand; Sylvie must have told him where they were coming into the hospital from. Hermann had his hands up, his expression serious but calling for silence as the two paramedics walked up to him. Jimmy had questions held behind his teeth waiting to fire at the older man, but he waited until he explained what happened.

“He had a seizure,” Herman told them, then made a sound to cut them off and both Sylvie and Jimmy started talking at once. “It wasn’t severe, but we took him to Dr. Manning. They’re doing some tests on him now to see if it was just a situational thing, or if it’s something else.”

Jimmy jumped at the opening to say something, anxious and worried and not getting any of the answers he needed fix the gnawing sensation in his gut. “Where is he?”

“One of the exam rooms,” said Hermann with a sigh. “Cindy’s with him, so don’t be worried that he’s alone.”

There was one question answered, and if Jimmy could have picked anyone to stay with George it would be Hermann’s wife. Cindy was warm and nurturing and tough as nails; he was grateful for her. Hermann seemed to understand that, but that his gratitude only went so far, because he stepped to the side and gestured for the two of them to follow him.

Cindy had George in her arms and was quietly talking to Natalie when the three of them finally walked in. George babbled happily when he saw them. Natalie folded her arms across her chest, leaning her hip against the exam table as her eyes fell onto them. “You guys got here pretty quick.”

Sylvie nudged Jimmy with her foot. “He drove, so...” It went unspoken that Jimmy was concerned, that was obvious. Natalie sighed and twisted around a little to pick up George’s chart.

“The baby has myoclonic-astatic epilepsy,” Natalie explained, handing over George’s chart to Sylvie, while Jimmy flipped through all the medical diagnosis he knew. But Natalie filled him in before he could ask her what it was. “Doose Syndrome is what it’s commonly known as. And it’s not that common at all, about 2% of children with epilepsy have it.”

“How dangerous is it?” asked Jimmy, glancing over Sylvie’s shoulder to get a look at the chart.

“It varies,” said Natalie carefully. “His seizure started after he woke up, which is what usually occurs in juveniles, and after the episode his head dropped?” Natalie looked at Hermann for confirmation, who nodded.

“Did a lot of research after Lee was born,” Hermann explained. “He had some epilepsy throughout childhood, but it’s disappeared now, thank God.”

“That atonic episode is what made me suspect Doose Syndrome. Those occur in 100% of these cases.”

“How do you treat it?” Jimmy asked, jumping onto the tail end of Natalie’s sentence. Sylvie placed her hand on his back warningly, rubbing small circles along his spine. Natalie looked at the baby still in Cindy’s arms and sighed sympathetically, reaching out to tickle his arm gently.

“We have to treat the seizures,” she explained. “The ketogenic diet works very well in children too, so that’s an option. But the bright side is two-thirds of children enter into remission and have normal intelligence.”

“So it just…”

Natalie sighed. “It just depends.”

Jimmy chewed on the inside of his lip for a few moments, then nodded to George. “Can we take him back to the firehouse?” Natalie shook her head.

“I want to monitor him overnight, find the right medication for him and make sure he doesn’t have anything more serious going on.”

“I’ll stay with him,” Jimmy offered immediately, but Hermann shot him down.

“We’ll keep with the schedule Sylvie set up,” he announced to the room, and Jimmy had to stop himself from arguing. “Switch shifts every few hours, no reason you need to be here by yourself the whole time.”

* * *

No matter what Sylvie told him, she couldn’t get the sour look off Jimmy’s face; she knew he was thinking about George. It was hard to fight him, because she was worried about him too, but now more than that she thought Jimmy was becoming too attached to the baby. She was usually the one going above and beyond on stuff like this, it was strange to see Jimmy doing it now.

It had been too late to go back to Molly’s after leaving the hospital, so Jimmy had driven her home and said goodnight. She hadn’t been able to get a hold of him since, except for a few half assed text replies. Sylvie was anxious to get back on shift so she could keep an eye on him. So it wasn’t entirely unexpected that, when Boden called out her name as she hurried down the hallway, she tripped over her own feet turning around and almost fell flat on her face.

Catching her balance, Sylvie waited until Boden had caught up with her. “Chief?’

“I want to talk to you about Jimmy.”

Straight to the point, and Sylvie’s heart started beating a little faster. “What about Jimmy?” she asked slowly, afraid of what he might say.

The older man sighed, and Sylvie knew he knew that Jimmy was - “Some concerns have been directed to me about how much Jimmy has bonded with George. But I want to know,” he started, holding up a hand as she opened her mouth to start defending her partner. “If, in _your_ opinion, Jimmy has gotten too attached to that baby.”

Sylvie stilled. Either way she said it she felt like Jimmy was screwed. One one hand her opinion about her partner was crucial, on the other - _she_ had problems in the past with getting too attached to patients. But she hadn’t had a chance to get overly involved with George this time, _Jimmy_ had taken over the crazy train on this one.

“I really don’t think there’s anything to worry about,” she bluffed with a nervously over exaggerated smile. “Jimmy _cares_ , sure. He’s...you know...a caring guy.”

They stared at each other for a beat, then two, and Sylvie had a feeling that Boden was waiting for her to break. But to her relief he conceded first, nodding his head slowly. “You’ll come to me if it becomes more than that?” He said it like a question, but Sylvie could hear the unspoken command underneath it. Jimmy needed to back off, and fast.

“Of course,” said Sylvie, voice still bright and fake. She turned to go, and once she was out of eyeshot of the Chief, booked it to the locker rooms.

“Oh thank god,” she said gratefully, spotting Jimmy in front of his locker pulling his shirt over his head. He turned when he heard her voice, nodding to her in greeting.

“Hey, sorry about -”

“Jimmy, you need back off.” Her voice was stern, and it made him pause, staring at her in confusion.

“Look, Sylvie…” he started off slowly, taking a few careful steps toward her. “You’re the one who said you had a thing for me, but I didn’t think I was acting any different -”

“ _Oh_ my god, no,” she interrupted him again, feeling mortified about that incident all over again. “No, I’m talking about George.”

His confusion disappeared, and Sylvie watched him cross his arms over his chest, prepared to get defensive. “What about him?”

Sylvie sighed, crossing the distance between them and taking his arm, leading him toward the benches and sitting him down next to her. “Jimmy, I _know_ how hard it is to let go of patients,” Sylvie said, deciding to start it out on safe territory. “The way Boden describes how our job should be, just dumping patients off at the hospital and forgetting about them, that’s impossible to do all the time. They stick with us.”

“Did Boden say something?” Jimmy asked, his eyebrows furrowed. “Because I’m fine-”

“No, Jimmy,” Sylvie interrupted him gently. “You’re not fine. Look,” she shifted uncomfortably, tucking her hair behind her ears as she faced him fully. “You remember your first day at 51?” The look his gave her told her _yes, no shit_ , and Sylvie rolled her eyes. “Ok, kinda hard to forget your brother wrapping you in saran wrap and locking you in the trunk of a car, but _I_ remember your first day too. I remember that whole day. You showed up, Chilli and I got a call where were delivered a baby in the back of the ambulance, and the mother died. He had no one and I...I got too attached to him.”

Jimmy looked away for a few moments to process her words, and Sylvie sat in silence with him. It was hard to admit that getting attached to patients was a weakness, but it was, and most of the time it bit them in the ass.

“If you had the chance,” Jimmy started, interrupting the silence with a soft voice, turning his head to look at her again. “Wouldn’t you do whatever it took to make sure he was alright?”

Sylvie’s stomach sank, realizing she’d have to tell Jimmy the whole story. She hadn’t even told Chili what she’d done. “I did,” she admitted quietly. “I kind of broke the rules.”

“Which you’re known to do,” he pointed out gently, and Sylvie winced.

“The rules as in...the law.” His eyebrow shot up. Trying really hard to look innocent and nonchalant, but knowing she was sucking at it, Sylvie continued. “I sort of stole my patient's chart, and found his dad. _And_ I kind of bullied him into being a parent...”

“ _Sylvie_ …”

“And I know what you’re doing isn’t even close to what I did,” said Sylvie quickly, just incase that _was_ what he was thinking she was trying to imply. “I’m just telling you to be careful or you could.”

But Jimmy was shaking his head as he stood up, looking down at her with a dispirited look on his face. “If I’d have been your partner last year I would have had your back through that. I always do. The least you could do is back me up on this.”

Some emotion she couldn’t name flared up inside her, and Sylvie stood abruptly as Jimmy turned to go, to try and stop him or tell him that she _did_ have his back - she was just worried about him, and _that_ wasn’t such a terrible thing. But she didn’t manage to get anything out as she stood there silently watching him walk out. Sylvie sunk back onto the bench with a long groan, rubbing the heel of her hand against her forehead.

And she thought about the dozens of times Jimmy had her back, no question, never second guessing her decisions, and it made her feel guilty for not automatically doing the same for him. He’d been there for her more than Chili, more than Mills even, and he had been her best friend. She didn’t know when Jimmy had taken over that spot.

With a new resolve, Sylvie stood up and headed after Jimmy, needing to prove to him that she was there to back him up no matter how crazy he got over this baby thing. But before she could actually find him, the sound of her name being called had her turning, her face brightening as she saw Gabby walking toward her with George in her arms. The baby immediately became active when he saw her, squawking cutely at her and waving his arm.

“Hi, Georgie!” she cooed, waiting for Gabby to reach her. “The hospital released him?” she asked, glancing briefly at Gabby for confirmation. She nodded, holding up a large plastic bag full of medications bottles.

“They’ve got him on a bunch of stuff I can’t pronounce, but Natalie and Will said he should be fine as long as he keeps to his meds. Hopefully no more seizures.”

“I’ll say,” breathed Sylvie, reaching for the boy and bouncing him on her hip, grinning happily down at him. “Oh, Jimmy’s going to be _so_ happy to see you.” 

“They really bonded, didn’t they?” Gabby asked, staring fondly down at George as Sylvie tried to keep him entertained with funny faces until she could break away and find Jimmy.

“Yeah, you could tell?”

“He seemed like he was looking around for someone that definitely wasn’t Hermann, all day,” Gabby told her. Sylvie’s grin softened, and she looked away. “Are you worried about it?”

She didn’t hesitate this time. “Not at all.”

But Jimmy, on the other end of the firehouse, was starting to have second and third and fourth thoughts about what Sylvie had said. At first he’d brushed it off, what he was doing she had done a dozen times and more. He’d gotten mad at her for calling him out on bonding with a victim, for not having his back; but the more he replayed what she told him the more he knew how much trouble he was in.

“Jimmy.” Boden looked up, sounding surprised as he knocked on the Chief’s office door. The older man beckoned him inside when he noticed Jimmy was just hanging in the doorway, unsure. “What can I do for you?”

Jimmy’s face was solemn. He’d learned a lot being partnered with Sylvie, and that honesty was usually what got you off the hook for shit you weren’t supposed to do. He took a deep breath and sat down across from Boden, leaning forward until he elbows were resting on his knees, and exhaled slowly. “You have a reason to be concerned,” he said slowly, staring at the items on Boden’s desk, picking his words carefully. His chest tightened as he thought about George, alone in the hospital without him, and it forced him to continue. “I’ve gotten too attached to…” he trailed off needlessly, kneading his thumb into the palm of his hand.

“I wanted to do the right thing,” he continued when Boden didn’t say anything, but Jimmy was too distracted by what he was thinking about to look up. “And I feel like the right thing is taking care of George. No child deserves to be left like that.” He wanted that boy to feel loved during what should have been the most innocent time in his life, not abandoned.

He fell silent after that, listening to Boden sigh and the faint squeak of this chair springs as the Chief leaned back. “Jimmy,” he started off deeply, and finally he looked up across the desk to meet the other man’s eyes. “I understand that you want to do right by this boy, and I commend you for it. But the bond you’ve formed with him won’t do you any good when the time comes to let him go.” Jimmy nodded, feeling a pang in his chest just at the thought of giving up George. “I am glad you came to me, and for now it hasn’t gotten out of hand. I’ll know when it does.”

A knock on the open door caused both men to turn and look, Jimmy straightening up with an apprehensive look in his eye. Antonio nodded to them both, leaning his shoulder against the door. “Glad I found you both here.”

“Has something happened with the abandonment case?” asked Boden, leaning onto his arm rest so he could get a better look at the detective. He nodded.

“Found the mother. We have her in custody.”

Jimmy was on the edge of his seat, ready to stand and confront this woman. His eyes were burning holes into Antonio. “And?” he prompted.

“Her name is Brittney Potter, the baby’s name is Dustin,” Antonio started, walking into Boden’s office and taking the seat beside Jimmy. For a moment he stared at Jimmy, seizing him up, before he slid his eyes away and focused on Boden. “Heard from Gabby he has a seizure disorder?”

“Please tell me that’s not why she left her baby in a dumpster,” begged Jimmy, his eyes a little wide, showcasing his horror. Antonio shook his head slowly.

“Wish I could,” he admitted. “Actually, she had no idea that leaving him in the dumpster was against the law. She thought ‘safehaven’ meant just leaving him anywhere at the firehouse.”

“She can’t get off the hook with an excuse like that, can she?” asked Jimmy, a wild expression in his eyes. “All she had to do was -”

“She didn’t know, Jimmy,” Boden interrupted him, his voice almost gentle.

“There no excuse!”

Antonio and Boden stared at him, neither saying a word, but their expressions sympathised with him. He couldn’t remember getting to his feet, but he refused to be embarrassed about making a scene. A noise from the doorway made him look up, meeting Sylvie’s eyes. Boden motioned her in and, with the baby (Dustin, Jimmy mentally corrected himself) on her hip she moved to stand next to Jimmy.

“I take it you found the mom?”

Antonio stood, nodding. “We arrested her,” he said, looking at Jimmy. “There’s a chance a jury will sympathize with her, but Dustin’s grandparents are willing to take custody of him.”

Sylvie looked confused. “Dustin?”

Jimmy reached out toward the baby and rubbed the back of his fingers over his arm. “That’s his name.” Sylvie shrugged, a disinterested frown on her face.

“I like George better.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Potter are outside, waiting for their grandson,” said Antonio, and Jimmy froze. “They’d been estranged from their daughter for a few years. They hadn’t even known she had a baby until we took her into custody. They seem like nice people.”

“And they’re here?” asked Sylvie quietly, glancing at Jimmy out of the corner of her eye. “They want him now?”

“They’re next of kin,” said Boden. Jimmy nodded, snapping out of his daze suddenly.

“Right,” he bit out. “We uh, we’ll met them.” Boden simply nodded, and Antonio gestured for them to follow. Out of earshot of the Chief, Sylvie pulled Jimmy to a stop, turning around to face him.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly, her hand firm against his arm. Jimmy’s eyes flicked away from hers briefly, landing on Dustin. The little boy smiled at him, arms coming up to be taken out of Sylvie’s arms. She passed him over quietly.

“No,” said Jimmy finally, gently pulling a tiny hand away from his nose. “But it’s the right thing to do.”

He didn’t say another word and Sylvie didn’t make him, the two walking like they were on their way to the gallows and Antonio was their executioner. He was waiting for them beside a middle aged couple who must have been Dustin’s grandparents. The woman looked anxious beside her husband, one hand gripping his arm and the other curled into a first against her chest. She wilted slightly when she spotted them.

“You two must be the paramedics Detective Dawson was telling us about.”

When Jimmy didn’t say anything Sylvie took the reigns of the conversation, putting on a bright false smile. “Yes, ma’am. Jimmy’s actually the one who found your grandson.”

Sylvie looked at her partner as the grandfather thanked him for his service, and she watched him nod at the appropriate times, but he wasn’t really in the conversation. He kept looking down at Dustin, brushing his hair back; he lifted the baby more securely into his arms for just a moment, before he put a strained smile on his face and passed Dustin off to his grandmother.

Without a word he turned and left, leaving Sylvie alone with the couple fawning over their new grandson. She watched Dustin’s head turn to track Jimmy before he was distracted by the new people in his life. Sylvie folded her arms across her chest tightly, pushing down her own feelings. Antonio squeezed her arm sympathetically, catching her eye briefly, before leading the Potter’s out of the firehouse.

Maybe it was because Jimmy hadn’t been able to say anything; he’d done exactly what he said he would if someone came to claim George. But Sylvie had seen the look on his face, she knew how attached he was to that little boy, and to watch him hand him over had been heartbreaking. He didn’t know if these people were going to be good to George, and neither did she. But dammit if she wasn’t going to make sure they knew he deserved to be treated with all the love in the world.

“Excuse me!” Sylvie was jogging to catch up to the couple, stopping them before they had made it to the street. The couple stopped and turned, looking confused why the crazy paramedic lady was chasing them out of the firehouse. Sylvie stopped in front of them, her heart pounding with what she was about to say. “I’m sorry, I know you want to get your grandson home, but I just need to say something.” She took a deep breath and glanced at George, reaching out to rub her hand against his back. “You’ve got a really great kid to look after,” she began. “He’s been through so much, so I need you both to promise me, that no matter what he does when he grows up, and no matter how much trouble he gets into or how mad you get...you can’t use this against him.”

The shock on their faces would have made a lesser person wince, but Sylvie was pretty much immune. “What did you just say?”

“His mom abandoned him in a dumpster,” said Sylvie bluntly, pointing over their shoulders. “That dumpster. And it was a miracle that Jimmy heard him and fished him out. Jimmy Borrelli saved your grandsons life. He’s the best person I know, and Jimmy….all he wants is for _that_ little boy to know that he’s wanted.”

The Potter’s stared at her for a good long while, then at each other, before Mrs. Potter held Dustin closer to her chest and nodded. “He will always be loved with us.”

Sylvie headed back into the bay to look for Jimmy; finding him sitting on the bumper of the rig by himself. She sat beside him without a word, kicking her toes against the concrete as she debated what to say. He was just staring off into space, not saying a word of acknowledgement to her.

“He’s gonna be fine,” she finally said, looking sideways at him. He quirked his eyebrows, but that was all the indication he gave that he heard her. Sylvie scooched closer to him. “His grandparents seem like really good people. They’re going to make sure he never remembers this.” Jimmy glanced at her, then away again. She moved closer, their shoulder brushing, and tried again. “You were really great with him.”

His lips quirked a little at the corners. “Thanks."

Sylvie returned the smile, placing her hand over his. “You know what? Let’s make a deal.” Jimmy turned his head to look at her fully, and Sylvie continued strong. “In ten years, if neither of us are married or whatever, we can have a baby together.”

He actually laughed, and it was so nice to see him smile again that a coil deep in her chest loosened at the sight. Sylvie sighed happily, glad she managed to boost his mood, and stood up. Stretching her arms over her head, she turned as Jimmy nudged her calf with his foot to get her attention, a wide smile still on his face.

“Deal.”

Sylvie beamed at him, letting her arms drop to her sides. She punched his shoulder lightly. “I’m going in, see you in a bit?”

“Yeah, for sure,” he told her, some of the mirth disappearing from his eyes. As Sylvie walked away, she turned again as Jimmy called after her. All she saw was heat in his eyes. “You ever change your mind and want one sooner, let me know.”


	3. C is for Cook

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter length is going to vary heavily, but hopefully I can get the next two out at a decent length!

“Is meatloaf the only thing you know how to cook?”

Jimmy was standing at the stove, minding his own business, when Sylvie had sidled up to stand and stare over his shoulder. It was his night to cook, and there were only a few things he actually bothered with that he knew the rest of the house wouldn’t complain about. Too bad Sylvie wasn’t one of them. He looked over at her, a bemused expression on his face, before he resumed.

“No,” he said simply. “But it’s the easiest thing. And when we could have a call at any minute, easy trumps...whatever you’d prefer.”

Sylvie made a face, still watching him mix ingredients silently. Then she sighed, rolling her eyes up to stare at the side of his face. “Does it have to be meatloaf?”

He snorted a little. “Everyone else seems to like it just fine.”

“Well,” the blonde started, turning around to lean back against the countertop, fixing him with a look. “I’m not everyone.”

“We’ve established.”

“And I’m not convinced you know how to cook anything _but_ this.”

Jimmy paused, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and pulled back to stare down at his shorter partner. “You want me to _prove_ it?” She only lifted a shoulder, turning her head away to stare out at the idling firefighters. Jimmy’s thoughtful look turned slightly devious. “Alright. Saturday after shift, you can come by and I’ll prove it.”

Her head whipped around. “What? No way, I’ve _seen_ your place, there’s nothing there!”

But Jimmy was already shaking his head. “Never said my place,” he told her lightly, reaching around her for the glass dish she was blocking him from. “I had plans at my parents for dinner, you’ll just have to come too.”

Sylvie chewed on her lower lip, gauging the sincerity of his offer, before shaking her head. “Saturday’s four days away, and I’ve seen your learning curve, you could learn to cook a four course meal by then for all I know.” Jimmy glanced at her, a little shock in his eyes at the backhanded compliment. But still a compliment. “So…”

“So?”

“So I’ll just have to prove to you that I can cook better than you before Saturday,” she told him, and with a little flick of her ponytail, Sylvie flounce away, leaving Jimmy to stare after her. He turned back to making dinner with a shake of his head and a sigh, knowing that there wouldn’t be any way to back out of it. A cook off with Sylvie Brett? How bad could it be?

Even so, he’d better bring wine.

Sylvie had been a lot of things before coming to Chicago. She’d been complacent and kept, worked her ass off at both her job and at home, and any free time she had was used for chipping away at her personality until she fit  into a perfect soon-to-be-wife box that Harrison had made for her. Sylvie hated that person now; it was why she wanted a clean break from that life and moved. But there was one thing about it she missed, and that was cooking for someone else. It made her feel proud in a way that saving lives just didn’t do. After she’d first gotten to Chicago and offered Joe cooking lessons, the last thing she thought she would ever want to do again was to cook for another person, but looking over at Jimmy, sitting at her kitchen counter in a tight fitting t-shirt and a glass of wine in his hand as he laughed at something she said, she realized how much cooking was more a part of her than she had thought.

Jimmy, for what it was worth, seemed to be having a good time just sitting and watching her. He’d show up with a proper gift, been on time, dressed casually, and Sylvie was starting to realize just how much she really liked him. Of course she thought he was cute before ( nay - _hot_ ), but just hanging out with him outside of work, he really was a fun guy.

“My brother taught me how to play baseball,” he was saying, after Sylvie had regaled him with her version of how she and her brother had been banned from sports for three years by their family. Sylvie turned her head to look at him, her eyes soft as he mentioned his brother; they shared a short moment of silence before Jimmy continued, his eyes filled with nostalgia instead of grief. “My mom hates the game, can’t stand it, because my grandfather used to travel as a pitcher for some low-rent team back in the 60s and she’d never see him. But he taught Danny how to play, and he taught me. There was this one winter, snow so high we couldn’t leave the house, and Danny thought it would be a good idea to practice: ‘Season’s comin’ up, Jimothy, gotta practice’.”

Sylvie, listening with one ear as she finally closed the oven, turned to sit across from him at the counter, picking up her own forgotten glass of wine. She snorted a little into the rim, giving his impression of his brother a look. “Jimothy?”

“He thought he was funny,” Jimmy said with a wave of his hand, brushing her comment away as he continued his story, and she groaned as she realized where it was going.

“Oh God, what did you break?”

Jimmy grinned at her, taking a small, innocent sip of his wine. “Danny’s nose.”

“ _No_.”

“He beat the hell out of me for it, don’t feel too bad for him,” he laughed. It trailed off after a second or two, and Sylvie turned her head away to let him have his moment. She could only imagine what he must have been going through, to loose your brother like that, and right in front of you. Sylvie silently poured them both more wine.

He never admitted her cooking was better than his though, so when she showed up at his place in the morning with two sacks of groceries and ignoring that he wasn’t wearing anything but a pair of threadbare sweatpants he wasn’t really surprised. Jimmy stepped to the side, hair sticking up on one side, following her with his eyes as she walked into his apartment without even a good morning.

“I was thinking about what you said,” she was saying, maneuvering one of the overstuffed bags onto her hip in order to set one down on his kitchen counter. “About breakfast being a waste, and I _think_ I can change your mind.”

“I never said breakfast was a waste,” said Jimmy with a sigh, letting his door fall shut and following her into his place. He sat down heavily into his couch, knees spread open and an arm tossed over the back of the cushions. He quirked an eyebrow at the blonde when she turned to give him a look. “I said I didn’t like breakfast food.”

“I don’t understand the difference.”

Jimmy rolled his eyes and picked up the book he’d been reading when she’d knocked on his door at 7 in the morning. “I have coffee in the pot if you want some,” he said absently, trying to find his page again. “But if you were going to show up this early you should have just come home with me.”

He didn’t mean it the way he said it, and his head bobbed up to correct himself, but with his mouth hanging open, he caught the blush on her cheeks, and made the unfortunate decision to hesitate. “That’s not...you know what I mean.”

Sylvie cleared her throat, pointedly ignoring him as she focused on unloading groceries onto his counter space. “Would you put on a shirt already? I am a lady.”

He snorted lightly, going back to his book. “You sound like Stacey.”

“That’s your sister-in-law, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah,” but he didn’t say anything else, like why she’d be at his place when he wasn’t wearing a shirt. For a brief, stomach churning moment, Sylvie looked over at Jimmy sitting so casually on his couch, and wondered if he was sleeping with his dead brother’s wife, but the thought disappeared as quickly as it’d come; leaving her feeling dirty and like she needed to apologize.

“How’s she doing?” she asked quietly. “And the boys?” Jimmy talked about them on calls sometimes, he loved those kids, and with Danny gone Stacey sometimes dropped them off at the station so she could run errands or get some peace and quiet. “Is Eric doing better?”

Jimmy cleared his throat, like he was uncomfortable talking to her about his family problems, but he answered her question about his oldest nephew anyway, and she was grateful for it. “Yeah, he’s doin’ alright. Not getting into fights at school anymore, at least,” he looked at her, finally tossing his book onto the cushion beside him and standing up. He stood next to her silently, staring down at her as she arranged everything, not looking back. “We’re all getting better.”

She looked up with wide eyes, shocked at the admission. He just stared back, the intensity of his gaze making her uncomfortable, but the only place she could look was down, which was a bad idea when all she saw was skin and overworn sleep pants. She turned away stiffly, reaching across the counter blindly for - what turned out to be - the bag of potatoes she brought. “Put on a damn shirt.”

He tsk’d at her, rolling his eyes and turning away without a word. She heard him in his bedroom, rifling around in it while she absently cut potatoes into cubes, heated oil in a pan on the stove, scoffed at how little he had in his place furniture wise but somehow had a fully stocked kitchen. “You really do cook here, don’t you?” she said to herself as she rummaged through the spice cabinet.

“I told you I did.” Sylvie jumped, smacking her head against the open cabinet door as she spun around.

“Fucking Christ, Jimmy -”

“Shit, are you okay?”

His hands moved to her cradle her head in his hands even as she swore at him. She hadn’t even felt it, but she fell completely still as Jimmy’s fingers probed the spot above her eyebrow where she’d hit the edge. He had a shirt on, at least, though it probably wasn’t worth the head injury. His fingers combed her hair back, crouching down a little to get one last look at the damage before he stepped away. “You okay?” he asked again, searching her eyes worriedly.

She nodded, after a brief moment of her brain being dead. “Y-Yeah, I’m okay.”

He sighed and shook his head at her in mock disappointment, backing off. “Be careful,” he told her. “I seriously don’t want to be one of those people who has to call for an ambulance because of some stupid kitchen accident.”

“I hit my head,” she scoffed. “It’s not like a put my hand into a blender while it was plugged in, don’t be dramatic.” He nodded to the pan she’d been using on the stove, bringing her back to reality and what she’d come there for in the first place.

“Pan’s smoking.”

Sylvie pushed him out of the kitchen and out of her way, continuing to do her thing as he conceded and sat in one of the barstools on the other side of the island to watch her. “So why don’t you cook more often for the house?” he asked, tapping his fingers against his arm as he watched her hands slice and dice.

“I don’t like cooking for other people,” she said, and Jimmy raised an eyebrow at her, calling bullshit. Sylvie wilted a little. “I didn’t think I did, I mean,” she paused, head tilted to the side, and pursed her lips at the egg in her hand. “I _know_ I didn’t like cooking for my fiance.”

Jimmy’s eyebrows shot up. “Your what now?”

Sylvie sighed. “Harrison, he was my fiance back in Indiana. Left me three months before the wedding, so I stole his car and came here.”

He shook his head at her slowly, mouth rounded into an ‘o’ and his eyebrows hiked straight up his forehead. “You have **some** baggage Sylvie Brett.”

The blonde shot him a mean look. “And you don’t?”

Jimmy grimaced, turning his head away to stare at something on the wall. She wondered for a little about what he’d say, all kinds of crazy scenarios popping up in her head. Like if he had a kid that he only got to see on weekends, or the reason he had so little in his apartment was because he was in Witness Protection against the mob and needed to disappear at the drop of a hat. Or he _was_ in the mob.

“My brother’s dead,” he said finally. “I think that’s enough baggage.”

It always came back to Danny. Sylvie closed her mouth and looked away, wondering if he knew that was the only thing that could get her to shut up nowadays. He couldn’t bully her out of his life, he couldn’t ignore her away, so he picked his emotional instability to silence her into submission. It was sucky, but not like she could fire back with anything of the same caliber.

“So no illegitimate children anywhere?” she teased poorly. Jimmy’s head whipped around, and before he could open his mouth she jumped at the opportunity to see how far she could take it. “That’s a yes,” she snorted. “No wonder you’re so good with kids; I’m gonna guess high school? Maybe a boy, no way you wouldn’t have more toys in here if you had a daughter. Boys don’t really need _stuff_ , and you’ve got an x-box, so.”

“Why do you think I have a kid somewhere?” he asked in wonderment, his eyes wide. Sylvie smirked at his expression, spooning food onto plates as everything started to come together breakfast wise. He went on, his voice still filled with awe. “Do I look like the kind of guy who had a kid in high school?”

Sylvie pointed her spatula at him menacingly. “If you had a kid you wouldn’t hate breakfast.”

He shook his head, his mouth open, and Sylvie was completely prepared to take anything he had to throw at her. “Well, you’re right.” Except that. “He’s six, I get to see him twice a week because his mom lives in Milwaukee. But he’s an amazing kid; he’ll be seven in August, already in second grade. His name’s Ethan.”

Sylvie felt her stomach drop. “That’s…” but then she looked around, at the _nothingness_ in his apartment. No photos or little kid drawings or stuff to do when you’re small and had an overactive imagination. Her eyes narrowed. “That’s a load of bullshit, isn’t it.”

His eyes glinted evilly. “I had you so good for a second there.”

“You’re an evil bastard, you know that?” she shook her head, and impulsively threw a piece of sausage at him. He ducked out of the way just in time, still laughing at her. “That’s your baggage, you’re secretly evil.”

“Oh c’mon, it’s not like anyone’s bothered to get to know me since I’ve been at 51,” he said defensively, and Sylvie raised her eyebrows at him, because _hello_ she was his **_partner_ ** . “Don’t pretend like you’ve tried, I had to learn from Hermann that you and Cruz dated. Hell, _Chili_ didn’t bother getting to know me at all, and we were sleeping together for a month before I realized she was batshit.”

“Hey-”

“She almost got me fired and didn’t care at all,” Jimmy snapped, interrupting her with a pointed look. “Not to mention what she did to you. Chili was an unstable drunk.”

“Woah, hey, easy Jimmy,” Sylvie rattled off quickly, holding up her hands to get him to slow down. Man, when he got talking about Chili there was no stopping him. She must have hurt him more than anyone thought. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” she asked him, handing him a plate of food and finally going to pour herself a cup of coffee.

He shrugged. “What would have been the point? I would have just been the angry ex-fucktoy.”

“ _Ughhh_ ,” Sylvie grimaced, holding a hand up to her ear, shooting him a look. “Don’t put that image in my head.”

“Of what? Me and Chili?” Truthfully? She’d hated Chili since the second she told her about kissing Jimmy; she’d hated her for the way Jimmy looked at her when he first showed up at 51 naked and covered in saran wrap; she hated her for getting there first, and now Sylvie was stuck in the friendzone, stuck to making him breakfast and talking about other women.

“It’d be like me talking about how _enthusiastic_ Cruz was,” she said, sipping nonchalantly on her coffee. Jimmy made a face and ate his eggs.

“Noted. Also never do that.”

Sylvie watch Jimmy chew thoughtfully on his breakfast, gesturing at them with his fork after a few moments. “This isn’t bad.”

Grinning triumphantly, Sylvie stole a forkful of his eggs and vowed to get him back for screwing with her.

Her opportunity came that evening, when Jimmy texted her asking if she wanted to meet up at Molly’s. And yeah, a drink sounded fun, because Jimmy was fun, and she was having fun getting to know him better. He met her outside, texting someone when she walked up and bumped her shoulder against his arm. “Hey,” she said casually, trying to look over his arm at his phone screen so she could eavesdrop on his conversation. “Who you talkin’ to?”

“Letting my mom know you’re still coming to dinner Saturday,” he said, showing her the conversation he had with his mom. “She’s excited to meet you.” Sylvie glanced at him, making a face.

“She doesn’t think we’re dating does she?”

“She keeps calling me Danny, so no,” said Jimmy, giving her a pained look. He sighed and pocketed his phone. “Mom’s a little out of it, anti-depressants and vodka will do that though.” Sylvie turned her head sharply, opening her mouth to yell about how that combination was extremely dangerous, when he held up his hand to stop her. “Don’t, I know, but she won’t listen.”

“I’m so sorry, Jimmy,” Sylvie sympathized, taking his arm and steering him into the bar. “I got the first round, okay? Get a table?”

He broke away from her with a nod and headed to the back of the bar, claiming a high table. Sylvie watched him from the bar as he pulled his phone out again, her eyes sweeping over his profile before it was obscured by a group of people who walked in front of him. Sylvie turned back around and nearly jumped out of her skin when she found Otis standing directly in front of her with his eyebrows raised.

“Hi, Sylvie,” he said pointedly, glancing over her shoulder. “You here with Jimmy?”

She nodded. “Yeah, we’re hanging out.” He looked skeptical, his eyes darting back to Jimmy again, and Sylvie rolled her eyes. “We’re just hanging out,” she insisted, pressing her palms against the countertop and leaning forward on them. “Otis? Can I get some drinks?”

He made a face but it was gone so fast she might have missed it if she blinked. “Comin’ right up,” he said begrudgingly. “Beers?” She nodded. They were fast and simple and she was back at the table in a matter of minutes, plinking a bottle in front of Jimmy with a flourish as she hopped into the seat across from him.

He thanked her, putting his phone down. “Otis harass you?”

She sighed. “I don’t know how much longer I can pretend that his... _crush_ on me isn’t a big deal,” she muttered, taking a pull from her beer. Jimmy shook his head.

“You should have confronted him about it months ago, Brett. Pretending it’s not there wont make it go away.”

“But it’s _Otis_ ,” she whined, feeling pathetic about the whole thing. “I’m not just going to come out and say it, that would be cruel.”

“Sure, it’s cruel _now_ . But six months ago? A year ago? You’ve let it go on too long.” Sylvie rolled her eyes, but she knew he was right. He’d always been right about Otis. How he became the only person she could talk to about it, she didn’t know. Hours together in an ambulance and they had to talk about _something_. Might as well be gossip. Jimmy shrugged and lifted his beer to his lips. “You know I’m right.”

“I’m just hoping it’ll fade away,” she admitted guiltily. “At first I didn’t want to say anything because, I mean, Cruz and I had _just_ broken up. What kind of guy does that to their best friend after they break up?” Jimmy shrugged politely, but she could tell he had some choice words to say about Joe as well. Again, Sylvie sighed. “It’s not Joe’s fault that he didn’t tell me about Otis’ feelings. He has no right to interfere anyway.”

“Yeah? Well I get to interfere all I want, and I’m telling you, Brett, you need to stop it before it gets weird.”

“Like you and Chili?” she snapped, instantly regretting it when his eyes narrowed dangerously. He finished his beer, sliding out of his chair as he did.

“I got the next round.”

“ _Jimmy_ ,” Sylvie groaned, lying pathetically across the tabletop as he turned to go to the bar, kicking her feet childishly “I’m _sorry._ Forgive me?”

He glanced back at her with a bemused look, shaking his head as he faced the bar and waited for Otis. Sylvie huffed, sitting up far enough to prop her chin on her hand. She flicked her eyes to the side as someone slid into one of the other seats at the table, quirking an eyebrow at Severide.

“You and Jimmy hangin’ out?” he asked, the same way Otis had earlier.

“Am I not allowed to hang out with him or something?”

Severide started shaking his head, and stopped, grimacing a little. “Well, I mean he did just go through something huge in his life. He’s probably not looking at you as a friend right now.”

Sylvie straightened up, holding a finger up sternly. “Okay, first of all, Jimmy could _use_ a friend. God knows no one else is right now. And second,” she added another finger. “If Jimmy wanted to get laid, he’d have his pick of the bar. Girl’s are all about trying to fix the broody hot danger guy; I’m just here to vet the crazy ones.”

Severide held his hands up defensively, laughing harder as she went on. “Alright, alright, so you’re just hanging out. I only came over to see how he was doing.” Because she was right and she knew it, no one was talking to Jimmy right now. Not in the aftermath of trying to get Boden fired. It had been tough, really tough, but they all got through it; they were stronger for it.

Jimmy came back with round 2 before Sylvie could answer, nodding in greeting to Severide. “Hey Kelly,” he said. “What are you guys talking about?”

“Your son Ethan,” said Sylvie, latching onto the opportunity to make Jimmy pay for that morning. Severide choked on his drink, while Jimmy just rolled his eyes. “Yeah, did you know Jimmy had a kid?”

“I don’t have a kid.”

“He plays baseball, lives in Milwaukee with his mom, and he’s seven years old-”

“He’s six,” Jimmy corrected, giving her a look, then back to Severide to follow up casually. “And he doesn’t exist.”

“Just...stop talking.” And they did.

For like three seconds.

“So Jimmy was in high school -”

“I never got anyone pregnant in high school.”

Severide lifted a hand before she could fire off something else, agreeing with Jimmy. “I can vouch for that, I’ve seen his high school yearbook picture.”

But Sylvie paused, narrowing her eyes on Jimmy. “Interesting choice of words: never got anyone pregnant _in high school_ , huh? Jimmy Borrelli, do you actually have a kid somewhere?”

“Interesting,” said Severide slowly, looking over at Jimmy with a quirk of his eyebrow. Jimmy just shook his head at her, fighting off a smile.

“No, Sylvie Brett, I do not have a kid somewhere.”

“But you’ve gotten someone pregnant?” Jimmy looked at Severide, giving him a little ‘come on’ gesture.

“You’re kind of a slut, Kelly, you know how it is.”

Severide looked at her with a small, slightly guilty nod. “This is true, it’s just a fact of life that sometimes those little guys just break through and-”

“You are both gross, and you are paying for my therapy.”

Severide left with a snort, leaving them alone again. Sylvie wrapped her hands around her beer bottle, still not having touched her new one, and stared at the label. Jimmy reached across the table and touched her wrist. “Hey,” he started, trying to get her attention. “We were just screwing with you, you know that right?”

Sylvie glanced at him, a weak smile flashing across her face. “No you weren’t,” she corrected him. He squeezed her hand a little, giving her the courage she didn’t know she needed. “Confession? I’ve been pregnant, and even though things didn’t work out - maybe especially - listening to you joke about it hurts.”

Jimmy nodded, eyes turning down, but he didn’t let go of her, he kept his hand on her wrist as she finished her beer and reached for a second. He didn’t say anything to her until she was halfway finished with that one. “Jessica,” he said, just the one word, and Sylvie paused with her beer against her lips, holding her breath. “She called me, after Boden fired her.”

Sylvie put down her beer bottle abruptly, leaning forward with wide eyes. “Chili?” she whispered. “ _No._ ” Jimmy pursed his lips and nodded.

“Yup,” he sighed. “I don’t even know why she bothered to tell me,” he glanced at her with a wiry smile. “She kind of hates me, you know?”

“That’s impossible,” Sylvie told him immediately. “You are _impossible_ to hate. Sometimes I want to punch you in the throat, but never hate. No one could hate you.”

He nodded to her, the ghost of a smile around his mouth as he pulled his hand back and stood. “Something stronger this round? I could use a shot.”

Sylvie groaned. “We have to be on shift in the morning, I can’t do it hung over.” But he was still staring at her, like he expected her to cave at any second. “Fine, one shot.” she was so weak.

Sylvie forced a bagged lunch into Jimmy’s hands the next morning, with dark circles under her eyes and still smelling like whipped cream vodka. It must have gotten into her hair while they were drinking at Molly’s, and she’d woken up more hungover than she’d meant to be that morning and no time to shower. He was lucky she did this for him.

Jimmy looked at her, an eyebrow raised in silent confusion. “It’s lunch,” she explained, like he was slow. “I made you lunch. It’s my last chance to prove how much better I am at cooking than you are, and after tonight we’ll both know it.”

He sighed, but when he looked down at the bagged lunch she’d shoved at him, he smirked. “Thanks for the passive aggressive lunchbox, Sylvie.” She tsk’d. “We’ve had fun the last couple days, haven’t we?” he admitted, turning to put the food in the fridge. She followed, nodding in agreement.

“I feel closer to you than ever,” she sigh dramatically, batting her eyelashes at him, Jimmy flicked her on the nose gently, sidestepping her.

“You’re gonna give my parents the wrong impression, talking like that,” he teased her. Sylvie whacked him on the shoulder as he passed her, clicking her tongue indignantly.

“You’re the one who’s letting them think we’re dating,” she sniffed. Otis and Stella looked up at them from the table, each wearing expressions that varied from horror to delight.

“You two are doin’ it?” asked Stella, her eyes bouncing from Jimmy to Sylvie. Jimmy just smirked at her, but Sylvie pressed her foot against the back of his knee with a sneer.

“ _No_ ,” she groused, dropping into the couch. Jimmy followed her, lounging into the corner with his arm resting along the back of the cushions while Sylvie kicked her feet into his lap. “Jimmy’s taking me to his parents for dinner.”

“When you say it like that it sounds like we’re dating,” Jimmy pointed out. Sylvie rolled her eyes.

“Could you imagine the two of us dating?” she scoffed, gesturing between them. Jimmy only grinned at her, but Stella ‘hm’d and looked away. Sylvie leaned to the side, fixing the other woman with a suspicious look. Her own heart was pounding, because she _did_ imagine the two of them together sometimes. ‘Cause her life was boring and sad. Stella shrugged.

“I can see it,” she said innocently, making Jimmy twist around to stare at her too. “You’d be pretty cute, I think.”

Otis made a face, shaking his head. “I don’t know, really? They work together, wouldn’t it get weird?”

Jimmy turned back around and fixed Sylvie with a pointed look, moving her feet off his lap and standing up with a heavy sigh. “As much fun as this is, I need to go inventory the rig.”

“I hate you,” Sylvie hissed at him as he shot her a wink and left her alone with Stella and Otis arguing about her non-existent love life with Jimmy. It took about five minutes before she was sick of it. “I’m gonna go help Jimmy.”

She made it out of earshot before she could ear Otis’ response to Stella’s - “You see how easy it would be for them to get away with it?” and standing outside the open doors of the rig to watch Jimmy inventory their supplies.

“Couldn’t take it, huh?”

“They’re like children, I swear,” she muttered. “And I mean at first Stella was serious but by the end of it she was just trying to rile up Otis.”

He glanced at her, pausing his gauze count. “You think she was serious?”

Sylvie shrugged and crossed her arms, leaning against the door of the ambulance. “She wasn’t around for you and Chili, or me and Cruz; just us as partners. It probably doesn’t seem strange at all to her.”

He snorted lightly, grinning down at his inventory list. “Good strange maybe,” he muttered, making her eyes narrow.

“What was that, Borrelli?”

“We’d be hot together and you know it,” he fired back, making her laugh, especially because he was pointing at her with a C collar and looking so serious she knew there was no way he couldn’t be kidding.

“Maybe if you hadn’t answered my confession of love with ‘I’m flattered’ you would have a shot. But you ruined it, now I just think of you as a brother.”

He raised an eyebrow, tossing the C collar behind him as he hopped out of the ambulance, standing a little too close to her. “A brother?” he asked, one hand on the door to the rig behind her, staring down at her as he leaned in. Sylvie didn’t back down, just nodded casually, eyebrows raised defiantly at the challenged, almost animal-like look in his eyes.

“Oh yeah,” she said, like this was all just so inconvenient. “I have about as much sexual awareness of you as I did of Mills.” He snorted.

“Oh really?” She nodded. “So if I…” he trailed off suggestively, running his hand over her waist and along the small of her back, pulling her nearly against him. Sylvie shrugged, hoping he couldn’t hear her heart pounding in her ribcage.

“Totally cool with it.”

He glanced down a little, to the hands she didn’t realized were clutching his sides. She snatched the traitorous appendages away, balling them into fists at her hips. She wasn’t 100% sure she wouldn’t punch him when his eyes flicked back up to look at her knowingly. “Not phased at all?”

Sylvie made a face at him, watching his eyes fall back to her mouth, bracing herself for what he might do next. “Not even a little.”

They pulled away from each other at the sound of alarms overhead, sharing a look before they walked past each other to climb into the cab of the ambulance. “We’re not gonna talk about what just happened, right?” Jimmy called over to her as he opened the driver's side door. Sylvie’s hands were shaking from adrenaline as she fumbled with her seatbelt, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

“Forget it ever happened.”

They were doing a lot of that lately.

Sylvie was still pulling confetti out of her hair in the bathroom when Jimmy walked in, pulling the wet, glitter stained t-shirt he was wearing off his body. He nodded to her, grabbing a towel out of his bag and rubbing it over his hair. “You’d think people would be more considerate.”

“It was Pride, Jimmy.”

“We were in the middle of traching a guy in the field, was the glitter canon really necessary?”

Sylvie snorted, examining her hair for any pieces she was missing. He stepped up behind her, and she froze as his fingers slid along her shoulder. He pulled a piece she’d missed from the nape of her neck, reaching around her to place it in the pile she had on the sink. “Missed some.”

She covered up her pounding heart by fluttering her eyelashes at him jokingly. “I want to look my best when I meet your parents.” He snorted at her, smirking and tossed his bag onto the sink to pull out a fresh shirt for the evening. Thank god their shift was done, no way she could take any more adrenaline fueled closeness with Jimmy. It was like every time they made eye contact today her body screamed at her to shove him against the nearest solid object and give him something he couldn’t forget.

His skin disappeared beneath the fabric of his button up shirt, looking nice and casual and making her mouth dry at the sight of him. “Well, I’m gonna go get ready,” Sylvie said quickly, backing away from Jimmy. He twisted to watch her leave, toothbrush hanging out the corner of his mouth. “Meet you out front in like twenty?” He nodded.

“No problem.”

But it _was_ a problem. Sylvie was standing in her bra and slacks, having stopped changing mid-way through when she realized she didn’t know what to wear. She’d brought two dresses with her to work, and one of her favorite sweater/skirt combos, thinking she’d just decide what to wear in the moment. Well, that moment was here, and she was stuck between all three. Someone cleared their throat behind her, and Sylvie barely glanced over her shoulder to see Capp standing behind her, looking at her strangely.

She didn’t even care that she was half naked.

“Hey, Brett,” he said slowly. “What are you doin’?”

Sylvie sighed heavily, gesturing to her locker. “Trying to decide what to wear.”

“Huh.” There was a beat, then she felt Capp move to stand beside her, looking seriously at her choices. “What’s the occasion?” he asked. “Date?”

“Just Jimmy.”

Capp made a funny sound in the back of his throat that could have been a laugh. “So a date with Jimmy? Heard you were meeting his parents.”

“It’s not a date,” she insisted with an eyeroll. But Capp just shook his head.

“Sure it isn’t,” he agreed - except his tone was strangely sarcastic, and it made her turn her head slowly to stare at him. “You’re just stressing out over what to wear, and I heard you’ve been cooking for him every day this week -”

“I haven’t -"

“ - Plus there was that little stunt we all saw yesterday morning at the ambo, when you guys almost kissed.”

“People _saw_ that?” 

“Go with the grey,” said Capp, reaching out to take the soft grey, cowl neckline dress out of her locker, holding it out to her. “It’s flattering, and it makes your eyes pop.” Sylvie blinked, taking the dress from him, a weird little smile on her face. 

“Thanks...I guess.” 

He smiled back, completely genuine and not at all teasing her like anyone else at the firehouse would. “No problem. Let me know how it goes with Jimmy.” 

Sylvie kept the smile on her face until he left, when he did - her smile fell, leaving her face looking sour. Oh, so everyone knew about the ambulance, huh? Damn. There was probably a pool going on or something; perfect, just what she needed. She changed quickly, muttering to herself the whole time, fixing her makeup and letting down her hair. 

Jimmy was waiting for her at his car, his hands in his pockets, leaning against the hood with his ankles crossed. His eyes ran over her a few times when he noticed she was headed his way, but for the life of her she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He did smile at her, opening the passenger's door when she was close. 

“You look pretty,” he told her, the compliment not helping to settle the butterflies in her stomach. 

“Thanks, I had some help picking it out.” Jimmy narrowed his eyes curiously. 

“Dawson?” 

“Capp.” 

He snorted, shaking his head as she climbed in. He shut the door and got behind the wheel, glancing at her briefly before he started the car. “He’s got good taste.” 

Oh. 

Her fingers kept twisting and smoothing out the hem of her dress as he drove, a nervous tick that she wasn’t sure didn’t come from Capp calling this a date. Jimmy let the radio fill the silence for a little while, until he started telling her about what she should look out for when it came to his family. 

“Mom won't be totally there, but she’s really nice,” he was saying, sounding like the apologetic son making excuses for the mother he adored. “And my dad, well he’s not one for cooking, which is why I’m coming over at all. Usually mom does it but she hasn’t been well…” 

“You really don’t have to explain, Jimmy,” she said, interrupting him with a sympathetic look in his direction. He shrugged. “I’m serious, I understand. Your parents need you.” 

“Losing Danny was really hard on them,” he confessed, sounding nonplussed, like it wasn’t hard for him too. He glanced at her as he pulled up to a stop sign, his eyes flicking over her with an unreadable expression on his face. “I’m really glad you’re coming with me,” he told her sincerely, making her blush. “Thanks.” 

He wasn’t going to listen to her telling him how not a problem it was for her, so she didn’t say it; instead she smiled at him, settling into her seat with a comfortable sigh. “You owe me,” she said instead, making him grin. “I’m serious, Borrelli; if this dinner isn’t _fantastic_ you’re going to have to be my slave for like a month.” 

“Oh, right, for all the trouble you’re going through?” he asked with a scoff, glancing at her. She nodded, smiling cutely. “Poor Sylvie…” 

He trailed off, still grinning, and they lapsed into a comfortable silence until Jimmy started to pull off into a residential neighborhood. Sylvie sat up, looking around in awe at the old neighborhood; with the sun starting to set behind the houses it looked totally sweat, like a Hallmark card. 

“You grew up here?” she asked curiously as he pulled the car into the driveway halfway down the block. 

“All my life,” he answer simply, climbing out of the car. He rested his arms on the hood as Sylvie got out, staring out at his parents house with a different, almost nostalgic, look in his eyes. “I’m really glad I don’t live here anymore though.” 

She stared at him as he stared at the house, her fingers climbing over the door frame and resting her chin against them. “Was it bad?” she asked softly, not wanting to bring up anything that might ruin the evening. He just shrugged. 

“Not always,” he answered. “Everyone is loud, and rude. No one knows how to keep their mouth shut, or when.” He looked over at her, a small smile hovering around the corners of his lips. “But everyone’s been around since Danny died, taking turns looking in on my parents. I can’t imagine having a better family.” 

And in this light, Sylvie had never been so in love with him. 

They both started sharply as the front door of the house banged open, heads snapping around to find a middle aged man looming in the doorway, leaning heavily against the frame with his arms folded across his chest. 

“You two ever gonna come inside?” 

Jimmy glanced at her, lips pursed and eyebrows raised. “Shoulda seen that coming,” he told her, sounding a little embarrassed. Sylvie grinned and him and stepped back to head up to the house with him, bounding up the stairs to introduce herself to the man in the door while Jimmy followed behind. “Hey, Dad. You up for some company?” 

Mr. Borrelli snorted lightly, and looking closely Sylvie could see how much Danny had resembled their dad; the lighter hair and blue eyes were all Danny. He nodded to her, looking her up and down for a moment before stepping to the side and letting them in. “You must be who my wife keeps going on about,” he told her, patting Jimmy on the shoulder when he was close enough to touch. Jimmy slung his arm over his dad’s shoulders, pulling him in tightly. 

“Yeah, this is Sylvie,” he said, holding his hand out to her. “She’s my partner on the ambulance. Syl, this is my dad Tony.” 

Sylvie watched Tony lean into Jimmy side for a moment, lowering his voice. “You’re mom’s in the den,” he told Jimmy quietly, pulling away when Jimmy nodded, jaw tight. “I think she’d like to meet your friend.” 

“I’ll let her know I’m here,” said Jimmy, sparing Sylvie a small, apologetic smile as he stepped around her and headed into the house. Tony watched him for a second, a dark look on his face. 

“I almost lost both of them,” he said, then looked at Sylvie, pinning her with a pained, angry stare. “Did you know that?” 

She nodded, shoulders hunching as a sudden chill coursed through her limbs. She had watched Jimmy run in after Danny from the sidelines, and thought nothing of it -- it wasn’t anything any other firefighter wouldn’t do. But after Boden went in after him, and the roof collapsed, she’d been damn near inconsolable. If she had thought it would help, she would have screamed Jimmy’s name until the universe brought him back out of that building safe and sound. “Yes, sir,” she answered quietly. 

He nodded, and Sylvie watched him go from angry to ashamed in an instant. “Don’t tell Jimmy,” he told her quietly. “But I’d rather it was Danny dead than him.” 

Sylvie nodded again, looking down at her shoes, agreeing softly. “Me too.” But she knew it didn’t mean much. She would have picked Jimmy over almost anyone. Tony brushed his hand over her arm for just a second, pressing his against her back and forcing her to start walking. She looked up in surprise as she was lead into the living room, eyes landing on Jimmy. For a half second she dreaded that he had heard them, but his eyes were light when he looked back at her from the kitchen. 

“Sylvie’s helping me with dinner, and Mom just went outside to the garden.” Tony squeezed her shoulder tightly before he let her go, a smile on his face that matched his sons. 

“She’s been going out there more. It’s good for her.” 

Jimmy nodded, pausing a second to look at his dad seriously. “How you doin’, Dad?” Sylvie moved around Tony and headed into the kitchen to join Jimmy as his father hemmed and hawed about how fine he was. She touched his back as she walked behind him, earning a glance but little more as she stopped at his side. 

Tony made noise about finding some music and left them quickly, leaving Jimmy to sigh and turn to her. “So, what he say to you?”

She mulled around the idea of telling Jimmy how grateful his dad was for him. She nearly told him that she was half convinced her dad was trying to flirt with her - and maybe a few months ago he would have been better at it, but now he just sounded broken. She wanted to tell him what a good son he was. Instead she shrugged. “Nothing, really.”

He looked like he didn’t believe her. But after a tense moment of staring he turned away to start dinner. “C’mon, Brett. Make yourself useful.”

And she was reluctant to admit it, but Jimmy _could_ cook. Nothing outlandish, but simple homestyle dishes he must have learned to do when he was little. He would brush up behind her and screw with whatever she was trying to stir or check on, and in retaliation she would smear flour across his face.

Only when his made-from-scratch lasagna was in the oven and she was wiping her hands with a damp towel did Jimmy say anything to her that wasn’t crude jokes or firehouse gossip. He was looking at her oddly, rising a pan in the sink as she stood by him and watched.

“Do you still have feelings for me?” he asked her seriously, causing her head to snap up too quickly. Her mouth dropped open wordlessly, just as he looked back at the dirty dishes he was working on. “Because that first call we had, when I came back after Danny’s funeral, I’ve been thinking about that lately,” he sounded so nonchalant about it, and she couldn’t make her brain work fast enough to stop him. “I didn’t realize I had fallen in love with you until then, you know?” He glanced at her again, a small furrow between his eyebrows. Jimmy handed her a slightly soapy, wet dish for her to dry, not letting go when she took it automatically.

“Yeah,” she answered softly, stomach twisting into knots. “Yeah, I do still…”

He nodded back, letting go of the dish and turning back to the sink. “Alright, cool.”

_That_ snapped her out of her stupor, blinking at him quickly and rolling her eyes. “God, you are just the _worst_.”

“Oh sue me, I’m terrible at flirting.”

“I think this ranks right up there with ‘ _I’m flattered_ ’,” she scoffed, tossing her damp rag at his head. “Who taught you how to talk to girls? And don’t you dare say Danny, because he’s married and there is no way someone as hot as Stacey would go for a line like ‘ _alright, cool_ ’.”

He shook his head, trying not to smile outright as she berated him. Sylvie turned around, leaning her back against the edge of the counter so she could look up at him, her head tilted to the side and a fond smile on her face. “So, you love me?”

To his credit he didn’t blush, only looked at her. “Yeah,” was his simple response, not even embarrassed. “Hard not to.” He smirked a little. “I mean, everyone else does right?”

She smacked the back of her hand against his arm lightly, shaking her head. “Is that why you invited me over? So you could finally confess your feelings?”

He shook his head. “Nah, just a bonus,” he told her, drying his hands and turning to face her fully, one hand resting on the counter next to her. “This week has been pretty great,” his head tilted slightly, staring at her in that way he did when he was trying to figure her out. “Hanging out, getting closer. I like you, Sylvie,” he admitted sincerely. “I want to be with you.”

Sylvie shifted under his gaze, eyes on his lips as he poured out his feelings. This was going to be so bad for the house, but she needed it, painfully. She reached for him, raising up on her toes to press her lips against his and feeling his hand against her waist as he kissed her back. Her hand was clutching at the open collar of his shirt when she broke away, ruining the fold with her grip; and she pulled back a little further when Jimmy leaned in to kiss her again.

“Don’t,” she warned him, eyes still lidded. “This isn’t real.” 

He frowned at her. “What do you mean? Of course it’s real.”

But Sylvie shook her head, remembering what Severide had said to her the other day at Molly’s. He wasn’t thinking of her as just a friend, and her pathetic ass just couldn’t see it. “You don’t want me, Jimmy,” she told him, still not looking at him, but at the buttons on his shirt. “You just want to feel something better than what Danny dying left you with. And I’m sorry, but I can’t be that buffer -”

 “You aren’t -”

 “Just,” Sylvie interrupted him with a deep breath, straightening to her full height and praying he wouldn’t tell her what she wanted him to. “Don’t.”

He was staring at her with a pained, disbelieving expression on his face. “ _Sylvie_.”

“Just…” and it killed her to say it as she pulled away, resting her hand flat against his chest. The oven dinged, letting them know dinner was ready, and from the other end of the house she heard a door open and Jimmy’s mom come inside, whistling cheerily. She spared him a weak smile, stepping away. “Forget it.”


End file.
